


bite the bullet

by kopycat_101



Series: Nathmarc November [18]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Banter, Bisexual Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Boys In Love, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Gay Marc Anciel, Getting Together, Horny Teenagers, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nathaniel Kurtzberg Has ADHD, Pining, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Teenagers, the homoeroticism of asking to borrow a pencil from your crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27617813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopycat_101/pseuds/kopycat_101
Summary: Nathaniel seems to be aware of his habit of gnawing on his pencils. Like one might condition a reticent puppy to stop gnawing on someone’s shins, he places grips or erasers so he doesn’t mess up his drawing pencils, will bite into the plastic or rubber and pause in what he’s doing, sticking his tongue out in disgust.Marc thinks it’s cute. But maybe that’s just his crush talking, making him see everything Nathaniel does as cute and charming. He sort of half-wonders, half-daydreams, what else Nathaniel would bite. Maybe if Marc offered his fingertips or his lips—The writer shakes his head, a furious blush spreading across his cheeks. No, brain! Stop it! He shouldn’t think those thoughts about his friend, when the artist’s sitting right next to him…!
Relationships: Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Series: Nathmarc November [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994782
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	bite the bullet

**Author's Note:**

> For NathMarc November Day 18: Pencil.
> 
> Featuring: the boys pining and acting a little thirsty.

* * *

Marc notices a lot of things about Nathaniel, once they start working together and become friends.

The way Nathaniel taps his fingers against his sketchbook, how he pokes his tongue out when drawing, the gleam in his uncovered blue eye when he’s inspired.

Marc also notices Nathaniel’s habits when it comes to drawing. The way he sketches lightly, pencil dancing across the page, until he’s sure of what he wants drawn. Then, he goes in again, pressing the graphite harder as lines for clothing and hair and expressions appear on the page. How the graphite smears against the edge of his hands, his fingers, when he’s not paying attention.

Marc also knows that Nathaniel likes to gnaw on his pencils. He does it to his mechanical pencils when doing homework or just casually doodling in his sketchbook. But his specific artist pencils, the professional ones, he always tops the ends with a pencil grip or an eraser.

Nathaniel seems to be aware of his habit of gnawing on his pencils. Like one might condition a reticent puppy to stop gnawing on someone’s shins, he places grips or erasers so he doesn’t mess up his drawing pencils, will bite into the plastic or rubber and pause in what he’s doing, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

Marc thinks it’s cute. But maybe that’s just his crush talking, making him see everything Nathaniel does as cute and charming. He sort of half-wonders, half-daydreams, what else Nathaniel would bite. Maybe if Marc offered his fingertips or his lips—

The writer shakes his head, a furious blush spreading across his cheeks. No, brain! Stop it! He shouldn’t think those thoughts about his friend, when the artist’s sitting right next to him…!

He feels a poke on the shoulder, and squeaks. The dark-haired boy whips his gaze over, staring back at Nathaniel, who’s looking at him curiously with the end of his pencil between his lips.

“You okay?” the artist asks around the instrument, before he’s popping it out between his lips, the end of the plastic slick with a bit of Nathaniel’s spit. Marcs eyes are riveted by the end of the pencil, as a traitorous part of Marc’s mind wonders what would happen if he leaned in and wrapped his lips around the end and—

Never mind! Abort! Mind so deep down in the gutter, he’s swimming through the sewer system!

“Fine!” Marc squeaks out. “Just—b-bite your—pe— _pencil_! Pencil! I th-thought y-y-you were trying to s-stop doing that?”

The artist blinks back at him, taking a few seconds to decode the mess that Marc stuttered out, before his gaze shifts down to the instrument in his hand. He pouts. “Ah, damn it, I did it again…And I forgot to put an eraser on it too…”

“I-It’s fine, they’re, they’re y- _your_ things…” the writer says shyly, trying to comfort the other despite his own mortification.

“Yeah, but I can’t ever let anyone borrow them,” Nathaniel sighs, still pouting, waggling the pencil in his hand. “I feel bad, but they’re all bitten to hell and back, and that’s kinda gross? And I wanna keep at least _some_ of them clean, in case you need to borrow one.”

The writer finds himself blinking back. “You’d…You’d keep them clean…for me?”

The artist laughs, cheeks going pink, highlighting the dusting of freckles across his cheeks. “Well, I mean…We work together all the time, and you always let me borrow a pen. If you ever need anything from me, I’d want to give it to you.”

Marc finds himself going warm, both gooey from his crush’s thoughtfulness, and also embarrassingly horny because wow, was Nathaniel thoughtful and that declaration could be taken in a completely different way—

No. Bad brain. No horny. Not when he’s talking to his friend and looking Nathaniel straight in the eye, his gorgeous sea-blue eye so vast that Marc can get lost in it…

“I-I’ll tell you when I need to borrow something, a-and, um, I wouldn’t mind…” Marc finds himself saying.

Nathaniel smiles back and giggles. “Alright, but…It’s a little embarrassing. And I don’t wanna gross you out. But if there’s no other option, I’ll let you borrow a pencil.”

* * *

This is it. Marc is going to do it. He’s going to ask Nathaniel to borrow a pencil.

“H-hey, sorry,” the writer starts, full of nerves and heart beating overtime in his chest. “C-C-can I borrow a pencil…?”

“Hm…? Oh! Yeah, sure,” the artist replies, looking a little flustered as he digs around in his bookbag. And takes a good twenty seconds to do it. “Uhhhh…Sorry, but…they’re all a little…” The redhead winces, face pink and embarrassed. Marc’s heart melts instantly.

“Th-that’s fine!” he assures his crush quickly, “I j-just forgot one today and don’t want to do my math homework in pen.”

Nathaniel bits his lip, slowly nodding, looking sympathetic. “Yeah, that’s fair. Math is already hard enough, without the handicap of doing it in pen. Here.”

Nathaniel extends one of his mechanical pencils to Marc, holding it from the back end, and the writer internally cheers. He carefully takes the writing instrument, their hands brushing slightly as he does so, and he turns to dig out his homework to hide his blush and giddy smile.

* * *

Nathaniel feels _so_ fucking mortified, offering one of his bitten-up pencils to Marc. But his friend-slash-crush is in a tight spot, and he’s not just going to abandon the poor guy.

Besides, Nathaniel can never say no to Marc. Marc’s an angel, the absolute sweetest, and isn’t the type to even ask for help very often because of his anxiety. Plus his eyes get so big and he blushes so much when he does, and it’s an expression that shoots an arrow straight through Nathaniel’s heart every damn time.

Marc could ask him to kill a man, in that stuttery and cute way of his, cheeks rosy pink and emerald eyes wide. And like the simp that he is, Nathaniel would instantly agree to it.

The dark-haired boy hums as he gets out his math homework, writing his name in that gorgeous cursive script. Nathaniel could watch Marc write all day, but he’s got designs he needs to finish coloring. Marc’s pretty much done with the writing for the plot, so he’s open to do homework or write personal projects, and the writer’s chosen the former like the practical and smart person he is.

It’s no wonder Marc is a straight-A student. He’s so hardworking and intelligent and knows how to handle his time well. Nathaniel could never. It’s just one more thing that he admires about the other boy, his friend and partner and crush.

With great reluctance, the writer tears his attention away from the boy sitting next to him. He riffles through his markers, trying to find what colors he needs for his designs.

He allows himself to dart his eyes over to survey the writer, in case he needs anything before Nathaniel starts to work. The writer’s eyes are half-lidded, intently looking at the problem sheet in front of him. It’s a look that could be described as smoldering. Nathaniel deeply wishes Marc could look at him the way he looks at his math homework, feeling a zing of heat crawl down his torso.

And on top of that, the end of Nathaniel’s pencil is pressed flush against his lips, the very tip of it falling into the crease of those plump and pretty-pink lips.

Nathaniel finds himself internally combusting. His mind screams while also breaking down into horny gibberish because God, Marc’s lips are touching what Nathaniel’s mouth has been on. And what if Marc’s lips were pressed against something else, instead of his gnawed-on pencil? Maybe his own lips, or even—

Never mind! Abort! Stop it, gutter mind! Marc is too sweet and pure for his dirty thoughts…!

Nathaniel stiffly turns his gaze back down to his sketchbook, biting his lips to bite down a frustrated whimper. He shifts a bit in his seat, finding his skinny jeans just a little tighter than before.

Damn it. Why is he always so horny…? Stupid puberty and stupid hormones and stupid Marc for being so cute and angelic to the point that Nathaniel wants to bury his fingers in that messy head of raven hair and…

He lets himself daydream a little, face warm, as he mechanically uncaps his markers and tests them out on a scrap sheet of paper to see if they’re working.

* * *

When Art Club is done for the day, Nathaniel doesn’t ask for his pencil back.

In fact, Nathaniel doesn’t react whatsoever to the clock ticking down and the rest of the club packing up to go home. He’s so invested in his art, it’s like he’s in his own little world. Marc watches him fondly, a smile on his lips. This isn’t the first time Nathaniel’s been in the zone and Marc has watched on, and it probably won’t be the last, either.

He doesn’t want to break Nathaniel’s streak, though. Seemingly no one else wants to either, because Alix just gives a wave and a little smirk at Marc, and the other girls giggle and wave goodbye as well. Even Mr. Carracci packs up and is about to leave the room. The teacher looks over at them and waves with a friendly smile, raising an eyebrow pointedly, causing Marc to flush and smile back sheepishly.

Right. Last one out of the art room has to close it up…

Marc carefully packs up as well. Thankfully, being distracted by his crush, and using said crush’s pencil, didn’t detract him from his ability to finish his math homework. Now he has no more schoolwork, and an evening free in front of him.

And he still has Nathaniel’s pencil. The same one Marc kissed earlier, too overtaken by his crush to really stop himself from doing just this one little thing to make himself feel closer to Nathaniel…

Is it weird? Probably. Definitely. But Marc is a gay and pining mess, and it’s not like he’s going to be kissing Nathaniel any time soon, so…

Marc looks down at the pencil. It’s a red one, and the little handle’s been long broken off. There’s no longer an eraser, and the end is all gnawed up. Marc is about to slip it in his bag with the rest of his materials, but then the guilt of keeping the pencil without the other’s permission starts to hit.

He glances at his phone for the time, and decides it’s late enough that they should start packing up soon, anyways. They could both be late to dinner if they’re not careful.

The writer ends up carefully tapping the other boy on the shoulder. Nathaniel jolts, almost jumping in the air, turning to stare at him with wide eyes.

“Um…It’s the end of club time.”

“A-Already…?” Nathaniel breathes, looking around himself wildly and noting the empty room. He flushes pink, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “O-Oh…I hadn’t even noticed…”

Marc smiles, feeling warm and fond. He pokes the other again, this time with the end of his pencil. “D-Do you want to take it, or…?” Marc asks, a little bemused and a lot curious. Nathaniel simply stares at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Yes! I mean, no! I mean—” the redhead starts, before squeaking out, “C-Could you repeat that?”

Marc raises a brow, finding himself smiling slightly and playfully waving the pencil around to emphasize his question of, “You want it?”

Nathaniel stares back. His blue eye flickers from the pencil, to Marc’s face, then back to the pencil. And then Nathaniel darts his gaze down to Marc’s lips, licking his own, and Marc distinctly feels like he’s been punched in the sternum.

“Yeah. I want it,” the redhead breathes, before he’s leaning in.

Warm. That’s what Nathaniel’s lips feel, against his. Warm, and a little wet, but pleasant. Marc places his unoccupied hand on the other’s arm and lets his eyes flutter closed, kissing back eagerly. Nathaniel lets out a little moan against his lips, and the sound warms his insides instantly.

When Marc pulls back, they’re both panting for breath like they’ve ran a marathon.

“I-I like you. And—and I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” the redhead pants out.

“I…Y-yeah. Me too,” the raven-haired boy agrees breathlessly. “I-I’ve crushed on you for, for what feels like _forever_ , and…finally getting to kiss you…”

Nathaniel stares back at him, dazed. And then he’s smiling, something wide and joyous and _hungry_. “If you—if you wanna date, I’d be down.”

“Y-Yeah. Tomorrow, after school?” the writer asks, deciding he might as well bite the bullet.

The redhead’s blue eye is dark with lust, and his smile is toothy as he says, “Deal.”

And then Nathaniel was grabbing onto Marc’s hoodie and yanking him in, all blazing heat, the pencil slipping between Marc’s fingers as their lips moved in tandem.

* * *

Kissing Nathaniel was a thousand times better than kissing his pencil, Marc now knows.

Nathaniel seems to almost redouble his efforts when it comes to biting his pencils. Especially when Marc sweetly asks him to borrow one, and he taps the end against his lips with a little hum and grin.

The artist has to wait until they’re out of Art Club. But when they find the first moment they can alone together, the shorter boy will yank Marc down into a heated kiss, licking into his mouth, and Marc will hum in triumph.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Man, all that pining and pent up gay tension really did explode out of these boys, huh--


End file.
